


All Talk

by Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me



Series: Destiel/ Cockles Shorts [16]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Annoyed Jared, Catfish - Freeform, Friendship, Implied Relationships, M/M, Noodling, POV Jared Padalecki, Randomness, pet peeves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 05:29:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4209729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me/pseuds/Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared is really sick and tired of hearing about all the things Jensen wants to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Talk

           He loves Jensen—lord knows he does. There’s no question that the guy is smart and talented and he can do pretty much _anything_ he sets his mind to, Jared is sure of that. And really, there’s very, very little that the guy can do that rubs Jared the wrong way; but there _were_ times … certain, specific times when he has to set his jaw and breathe deep in order not to snap. It’s not even Jensen’s fault either— _not really_. Jared has had the pet peeve all his life. It probably came from having two, very driven parents, but to him-- goals were a serious thing and you don’t make them lightly. Basically, if you say you want to do something, _just freaking do it!_ If you have no real intention of doing something, _then don’t say you will!_ It’s simple, and _thank God,_ Jensen doesn’t really do it all that often, but when he does, it’s almost worse coming from him—a guy who has all the means and potential in the world at his disposal. Rationally, that’s probably _why_ Jensen feels like he can be so lackadaisical about it. The guy _knows_ he could do whatever his mind comes up with, _so_ what does it hurt to say it and then not follow through?

           Except, _it did hurt_ in that sandpaper-grating-on-your-teeth kind of way. It usually would come up when they were sitting in one of their trailers, watching TV and drowning out the day’s responsibilities with fake realities and low quality camera work. Jared would normally be on his phone and Jensen would be watching some atypical “guy” show to pass the time-- it was a familiar routine, and _usually_ fine.

           “I’d try that” Jensen mumbled one day and Jared aptly tried to ignore him, finding solace in his new high level of Angry Birds. “Wouldn’t you want to try that?” Jensen piped up again, forcing Jared out of his staring match with the tiny screen.

           “ _Hmm?”_ he hummed after another second, knowing that whatever was on the television would be obnoxious and pointless, and really only appealing to adrenaline junkies … of which, _Jensen was not_. He was athletic— _sure_ , but he was no great risk taker. _So why say you want to be?_ Jared screamed internally as he kept his face calm.

           “Catfish noodling” Jensen chirped, still in a wide-eyed wonder at the screen.

           Jared finally allowed himself to acknowledge what was playing before them—and there they were, _two_ burly, sunburned men with sunglasses and camo-hats, shoulder deep in some muddy water, hooting something about how “they got one.” Jared refrained from rolling his eyes. “ _Nah_ , not for me, man. I like to keep my skin leech free, thank you very much” he finally said, hoping it was enough to satiate Jensen’s need to talk about it

           “I don’t think there’s a lot of leeches in those waters. _I would try i_ t—maybe there are places back home that do that sort of thing.”

           Jared slipped out a gritted groan. He’d already been on edge that day—filming had been rough, Gen had been on his case lately about his language around the kids, which meant she hadn’t been in the mood to help him _de-stress_ in the last couple of weeks, _and now_ —his best friend was insistent on stomping upon his last nerve like he was a member of Riverdance. “I’m gonna go grab a bite” he spit suddenly, feeling like he might just explode if he hears one more word about catfish; and he knew Jensen didn’t deserve that, especially since he really wasn’t doing anything wrong.

           “Oh, okay … “ Jensen mumbled, seeming a little surprised but mostly unfazed. “Want to grab me some gummy bears while you’re out?” he asked after another breath, thankfully, not catching on that Jared was volcanic, _or_ —knowing him well enough not to push it.

“Sure” Jared said quickly, before pocketing his phone and speeding out the door. The fresh air instantly eased him a little. He stretched out his legs and powered for the lot where he had parked his truck. _Just some space … I just need some time and space._

 

* * *

 

           By the time he got back to Jensen’s trailer, he had hoped the show would have ended and Jensen would have moved on to something else that wouldn’t entice fruitless desires that would only ever live on the tip of his tongue. Jared inched open the trailer door, slightly startled by the sight of Jensen— _not alone_ on the couch. He stood there a moment, watching as Misha sat crookedly on the cushions, his head propped up on his hand as he faced their friend beside him.

           “So you just shove your arm down into the water and _I guess_ they think it’s food or something—or _maybe_ you hold bait in your hand, and they basically deepthroat your fist” Jensen chuckles, eyes shining as he mimes the act dramatically to Misha.

           “Who would have known catfish would be so promiscuous?” the other man commented, giving a wide smile that for some reason, made Jensen laugh hysterically. Jared couldn’t help but laugh too—knowing that Misha was about the _only_ one who could just _exist_ and Jensen would act like it was the most hilarious joke ever told. The sound of his musing caught both of his friends’ attention. “Oh-- hey, Jared” Misha offered cheerily, straightening out on the couch as if to make room for him.

           Jared climbed the rest of the way inside, smiling still as his feet pulled him back towards the armchair he was resting on before. He knew, _three_ to the couch would be a bit too cramped and he was already uncomfortable with seemingly everything today. “Hey, man. How ya doin’?”

           “I’m good … getting regaled by tails of _noodling_ ” Misha said, tilting his head back towards Jensen.

           Jared could only smile weakly as he sat down, reaching into the grocery bag he was holding, pulling out the gummy bears and quickly tossing them over to Jensen. He then removed a six pack of IPA and offered one to each of his friends. The bottles were taken eagerly and he secretly hoped the unexpected drinks would also come with an unexpected subject change.

           “So, anyway … I think I’m going to see if there’s any places in or around Austin that do it” Jensen began again, turning Misha’s gaze back to him.

           “Are catfish really prominent in that area?” Misha asked, seeming genuinely interested; and Jared didn’t know how—Misha had to have known that this was all talk.

           “I don’t know … _maybe?_ Well, I wouldn’t mind a bit of a trip if they’re not. Might be fun—I wonder if I could get Dani to do it.”

           Misha chuckled hard. “Oh, I _highly_ doubt that, but I’d love to see you try.”

           Jared bit back a groan— _more talk._

           “ _Hey_ , you never know …” Jensen started “she could be in the mood to get a little dirty.” He gave his eyebrows a sultry waggle and Jared glanced over as Misha blushed … the way he always did when Jensen said anything flirty.

           “Well, either way—I suppose you’re in for something fun and bound to soil your clothes” Misha countered and Jensen laughed again, only to lean back after another moment and sigh wistfully.

           “With my luck—I’ll end up with literal _dirt_ and nothing else” Jensen muttered, and Jared wanted to scream: _No, you won’t end up with anything because you’re not going to do anything! You aren’t going noodling, just like you didn’t go hang gliding or windsurfing, or buy a junker car to fix up or start making your own micro-brew!_ He just huffed instead and chugged the rest of his beer.

           “Don’t talk like that. Positivity is half the task.” And with that, Misha set down his bottle on the coffee table and tilted up to pull his phone from his pocket. “So let’s see— _catfish_ … _noodling_ … _Austin_ _Texas_.”

           Jared and Jensen both whipped their heads around to stare at their older co-star as he typed the words into his phone.

           “ _Uh_ ” Jared started, feeling a tinge of empathetic embarrassment for Jensen—knowing that he’s now going to have to explain to Misha how he has _no_ real intentions of doing _anything_ with catfish, maybe except for eating them. But an excited jump from the green eyed man, scooting him in closer to Misha’s side stopped Jared from saying anything else.

           “Is there a place? Anything close to where I’m at? Is it like a class thing or do they just send you out with boots and net?”

           Misha laughed, still looking at his phone and scrolling through the options. “Hold on, hold on. I’m still looking for a site that’s promising.”

           Jared watched in awe as something new crawled across Jensen’s face. It wasn’t the nearly blank, gaping expression he had when he first brought up his little, swamp-tastic idea. _No_ , now it was eager— _excited_ , happy and hopeful. Jensen’s stare danced from Misha’s phone to the outline of his face and then back again. It lingered longer on his features with each pass—his sights gliding down from the man’s hairline, over the sharp line of his nose, to the subtle curves of Misha’s lips. Jensen was soon _staring_ —wonder-filled and grinning as Misha began describing a website he had found.

           Jared barely listened, still lost in the new, unexpected expression vibrating through his best friend. And just like that, all his annoyance slipped away as easily as it had gripped him. All his aggravation faded with each tap of Misha’s finger upon the glass of his phone. Each deep, melodic word the man spoke opened up his eyes to something that _maybe_ —he felt a little ashamed for not realizing before. _Jensen wasn’t all talk._ Not at all … he wasn’t a man who exclaimed wild dreams into the ether, knowing that there was nothing there to really ground them. _No_ —he was calling out for someone to simply tell him he could— _he should_ , he is valid for wanting to try. Jared smiled softly to himself after another moment, peeking away from the scene just as Jensen’s arm draped around Misha’s shoulder.

           He may not have caught on before, _not once_ over the last several years—and he knew, _that was on him;_ but he couldn’t help but be overjoyed that Misha knew better. The man effortlessly brought Jensen around from _talker_ , to _doer_ and the smile that was on both of their faces was enough to ignite the air with anticipation and excitement. After another deep breath, Jared set down his beer on the side table next to his knee, twisting around to pull himself off the chair and wander over to the couch. He plopped down—jostling his friends with his fall. A wide beam burst from his lips as Jensen beamed back, looking like a kid who just got told his drawing was _fridge-worthy_. Jared couldn’t help but reach up after that, patting Misha on the shoulder—earning him a heavy dose warm blue and kindness that eased away the very last of his cares.

           “So” Jared began, tilting his head back towards Misha’s phone. “Noodling, _huh_?”

**Author's Note:**

> I know this wasn't really Cockles, but I just wrote it as a headcanon originally but then it kept going ... so I thought "What the hell" and posted it. 
> 
> Find my on tumblr at: castiel-left-his-mark-on-me


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